From the instant Maya opened her eyes in this world, I've been her constant. I am more like Maya, I worship her and tail around her actions without breathing a word. Ever.
I have seen her drape her mom's dupatta around herself as a six year old pretending to be a lady and i have seen her twelve year old self touching her body, discovering the mountains and the curves. When her mother made her wear a bra for the first time she kept adjusting the straps trying to find the most perfect and elegant fit. You might think why I know such intimate secrets about her but trust me, I am not Joe Goldberg.
As she kept growing younger the world soon started to become bitter, or was it just a fakeness she was living till date.
I dont exactly remember the day she stopped being innocent. Maybe it was the day she stopped licking her fingers while emptying her packet of chips in front of her so called 'friends'. At thirteen she used to lock her room as soon as she would come home from school in the name of changing her clothes and stand in front of the mirror looking up at myself, her reflection, and she wouldn't make the funny weird faces anymore. She would be angry upon herself for all the scars and pimples on her face.
Apparently it was the biggest problem of her life then and i didn't quite understand the intensity of her shame. I could move mountains to help her get over this phase but it was just the Waning Gibbous and the New Moon was yet to come.
By Shreya Dandapat
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